Not Your Average Hobbit Lass
by Minn-Mani
Summary: This is a story in which Bilbo is in fact Billa Baggins, and she is a BAMF, and is not afraid to show the sexist dwarves that she can take care of herself, especially when she has a special ability on her side. Eventual Bagginshield, fem!Bilbo, BAMF!Bilbo. Summary sucks, I know, please read! Rated for violence, movieverse.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! So this is my first Hobbit fic, I hope y'all enjoy!**

 **I do not own The Hobbit, or any of its characters/plot. Dain would still be in the Iron Hills if I did own it, but alas, Tolkien had to rip everyone's hearts out. Don't sue me I'm poor.**

 **~0~**

 **Prologue**

Belladonna Took had always been a bit of an unusual hobbit. Now, it was well known that both the families Took and Brandybuck had an adventurous streak, but very few ever acted on said streak. Belladonna was one of the rare few that did, and act she did. One morning, she packed her bags, and the hobbits of Hobbiton watched as the young Took set out on her own little adventure.

Many expected her to return within a matter of weeks; after all, she had informed everyone that she was just visiting Bree. It was only a few days away, surely she wouldn't take very long?

After nearly eight months with no word, Belladonna was, reluctantly, assumed dead.

The Took clan was devastated (and rightly so), for Belladonna was a bright spot in many of their lives. Most of Hobbiton, in fact, mourned her loss. It seemed the Shire simply would not be the same without her wit and bright personality.

So it came as quite a shock when not three years later, Belladonna Took waltzed into town with a bow and quiver on her back, a small sword at her hip, an elegant cloak around her neck and a rather stuffed and overflowing pack in her hands. The town rejoiced, and soon many a tale was told of Belladonna the Brave and her adventures through Middle Earth.

Though, there were some that did not see her as such.

As time went on and the shock of her sudden return eased, many mocked and tormented the hobbit woman, for no respectable hobbit went on such grand adventures, or any adventures at all really. Men sneered, called her a whore and a thief (for after three years of travelling, one acquires many exotic things), and some in their drunkenness thought it a good idea to try and bed the 'Shire Whore'. They were all met with a sword to the nose and threats against their ability to further produce offspring. After three failed attempts, none tried again. The women, well they did what women do best. Gossip.

Rumors spread like a wildfire, each one more ridiculous than the last. Usually, the consisted of the Tooks disowning her, or that she was barren and it caused her to run away. Some told of how she used her "womanly wiles" (for they were too polite even in gossip to use the term "whored herself out") to survive these past three years alone. The rumors only intensified when Belladonna would start making weekly ventures into the Old Forest, a place that many had previously dubbed haunted. Many assumed that she was meeting a lover, or perhaps was into black magic; no one could ever prove anything.

Belladonna took no note of these rumors, however, and continued about her business as usual. She would never go any further than the Old Forest, however because she had found love in the most unlikely of men-Bungo Baggins. Of course his family did not approve in the slightest of their son's choice in partner. The Baggins' were considered one of the most respectful and respected clans in all of the Shire, and for one of them to marry the Shire Whore was enough cause for a riot. But, eventually, even they could not deny that their love was true. Everyone could see it plain as day; every time the two were together they simply radiated happiness and love for each other was etched into every crevice of their faces. And if anyone ever accused Belladonna of bewitching Bungo, neither paid it any attention.

Soon the young couple was married, and they moved into Bag End, the house that Bungo built himself for his bride, and Belladonna settled into her role as "wife".

Well, almost.

Bungo never begrudged his wife's love for adventure; in fact he encouraged it. It was one of the many things that made him fall in love with the she-hobbit (along with her intelligence and her sharp tongue, a no nonsense attitude and how she was unafraid to speak her mind, it was a breath of fresh air compared to the quiet and polite bootlickishness that his parents wanted him to be with). So when Belladonna would inform her husband of her intentions to "go out," he simply replied with a loving "Come back safe." And she always came back to her husband.

It was rather sudden when Belladonna announced that she was with child, and even more shocking when it turned out that there was indeed a child. Since the entirety of the Shire believed Belladonna barren, everyone came to see the miracle child for themselves and the couple soon found Bag End crowded with hobbits. And thus, Billa Baggins was introduced to the world.

 **~0~**

On the day of her sixth birthday, Billa met her first man.

Belladonna had met many people during her three years of traveling, and they had become important aspects of her life. So on the day of her daughter's birth, she wrote to all of them, inviting them to Bag End to visit and meet her daughter and husband. Mateon was the first to arrive.

Mateon, a Ranger from the North, had found Belladonna injured while on patrol and had healed her, then allowed her to travel with him for many months. The two of them saved many lives, including those of a dwarf and elf couple (a very rare sight indeed), and each other's lives many times over. Eventually they parted ways, as all travelers do, but promised to keep in touch.

Billa was fascinated by the Big Person, and became his personal shadow. Mateon (with Belladonna and Bungo's permission, of course) taught Billa how to be stealthy, even more so than most hobbits already were. He taught her to move through the trees and even the most crowded market place unseen and unheard, and how to survive in the wild. Mateon showed her many plants that were edible, and which ones were poisoness, and how to skin and cook the game he caught. Once the Ranger left months later, many hobbits were left wondering where their crops had gotten to.

As Billa grew, so did her beauty. With hair like molten sunshine, lightly tanned smooth skin and rich blue eyes, she was indeed a very pretty hobbit girl. And as her beauty grew, so did her abilities.

Billa had always loved animals. Ever since she could walk, Billa could be seen playing with the squirrels and singing with the birds rather than chasing the other children around their yards. No one really thought anything of it, thinking that she simply a shy child and didn't know how to act around the other children. "She'll grow out of it," they told themselves. But as she entered her teenage years, they noticed something odd. Instead of Billa following the birds all day, the birds started following her. Soon, many of the animals in the Shire (even the little garden snakes) could been seen trailing after the young hobbit. Sometimes, you could hear the whispered rumors that Billa could actually communicate with the animals (she could, of course, why else would they be following her around?) and they would be accompanied by harsh words; "freak," "unnatural," and "witch" were popular amongst the gossips. The hobbits seemed to believe that, as a child, Billa wouldn't hear their words, much less understand them.

But Billa did hear them, and each wary glance and quick shooing away of the children she went to play with cut into the child's fragile heart like shards of broken glass, and she would run home crying. Finally, after much pestering, she confessed to her parents exactly what the matter was. "Why am I like this," she whispered brokenly. "Is it true, what they say? Am I truly a witch, or a _freak_?" Belladonna placed her daughter on her lap and hugged her tightly to her chest, while Bungo her chin in his hands and turned her face to him.

"Wipe your eyes, precious. Their words do not matter. You are a king soul, loving, and so very beautiful. You were born for greatness, Billa, and it is because of your abilities that you will achieve it." Bungo wiped her tears away and a fierce look entered his eyes that made Billa cease her sniffling. Her jovial father rarely got this serious, but when he did, all listened. "It does not matter what the world thinks of you, Billa. What matters is what resides in your heart, and of what you believe of yourself. You are only a freak if you let yourself believe it. That, is why your mother and I are here," he then locked eyes with his wife, who was smiling at him. "To make sure that you never believe their words." And Billa trusted that her father was right.

The next day, Billa's lessons began anew. Her mother would teach her to fight, and to speak the different dialects she had learned in her years of traveling, while her father taught her to cook and sew and the art of healing. When she had the time, Billa would learn to harness her gifts, and to strengthen her bonds with the animals the frequented Bag End. Often times Belladonna brought her out into the Old Forest, for there was a wider variety of animals that lived in the woods.

When her mother's friends would visit, they would also contribute in Billa's teachings. Celestain of Mirkwood gifted the young hobbit with a bow, made from the oldest tree in the wood, (a rowan tree, she later learned) and taught her to read the stars. Her husband, Lothran of the Iron Hills taught her to fight with a battle ax, as well as Khuzdul. Only the bare minimum, mind you, as it was a complicated language to learn, and as it was technically illegal for other races to know anything of the language. Dwarves were a very private race, and their language was one of the most closely guarded secrets among them; the only way an outsider would learn of it was if they were family to the dwarf in question. Luckily for the Baggins family, Belladonna had become an honorary sister to Lothran after their many adventures together, so Lothran felt it his duty to teach his niece simple conversational Khuzdul. He also made her learn how to do certain braids, and their meanings, and at her Coming of Age Ceremony gifted her a hair bead with his family crest and runes etched into it that he had made just for her. (That night, he began to teach Billa how to drink like a dwarf. While her mother disapproved, it was Bungo, surprisingly enough, that encouraged it, even going so far as to buy the first two rounds for his daughter and brother-but-not-in-law. Over the duration of Lothran and Celestain's three month stay, Billa and her uncle would be seen frequently in the Green Dragon. Soon enough, though, Billa was able to drink the dwarf under the table, and Lothran declared their trips a success. Celestain simply rolled her eyes at her husband's actions and they left for their own home.)

Another of Belladonna's friends -a blacksmith and leather-worker sibling team, Jamel and Jamie- made Billa custom armor, and a pair of stiletto daggers she could easily hide in the folds of her dress, along with a rather large collection of throwing knives. Light but lethal, the twins instructed Billa in the best way to use the longer daggers, leaving a delighted Belladonna to teach her daughter about the throwing knives (Bungo distantly wondered if it was healthy to gift a woman with so many weapons, then shook the thought from his mind, seeing as how he wasn't exactly discouraging it all with his extensive knowledge of poisons that Billa had managed to stumble upon). Regardless of what it was she was studying at the time, or under whoever's tutelage, she would always be home in time for supper, as her father taught was good manners.

Then the Fell Winter came.

 **~0~**

The Fell Winter was the worst winter in all Shire history. The Brandywine River had completely frozen over, and nearly two feet of frost covered every inch of the land. No crops were spared from the relentless cold, and the resources coming in from Men's towns were slow coming, but they eventually arrived. The starving hobbits were able to trade what gold or other valuables they owned for food and blankets, though much of it was freely given by the Men. Soon, though, the caravans bringing food began to slow, then stop completely. Orcs had infested the land, and raided the large parties bringing the much needed resources to the Shire. Warg scouts began to trickle into the icy hills of Hobbiton, and families were forced to barricade themselves in their homes in fear of not being attacked. Of course, it happened anyways. For the first few weeks, the hobbits that were desperate enough to trek outside their houses met their end either by the frost or by Orc. Their screams could be heard throughout the entirety of Hobbiton, but none came out to help them. Eventually, they stopped sending hobbits outside.

The snow seemed to seep into Bag End, making the once vibrantly warm hobbit hole cold and damp. Billa, her parents and the few animals she had managed to find and lead into the house managed to preserve most of their food for an extended period of time by forgoing their usual seven meals a day to three light meals a day, then down to two. The three hobbits would shiver occasionally during the day, as they would save the fire wood for nights when it was coldest. But soon Billa noticed her mother's unusually pale face, and the wheezing breaths she took. Bungo did everything he could with what they had to cure his wife from whatever illness had befallen her, but it was no use. She was getting worse, and their food supply was getting dangerously low.

The next day, Billa donned her armor and cloak, strapped her mother's sword to her hip and slid her stiletto daggers into the double sided leather holster made specifically for them, then slipped out of the highest window of Bag End. Billa, along with a squirrel and a thrush she had befriended, scoured their desolate village, hoping beyond hope that they would find something to help her mother.

They didn't.

The trio continued this routine for a week before a miracle came to her, in the form of mint and rosemary. Billa gathered the herbs and rushed back towards Bag End, praying to every deity she could thing of that she wasn't too late to save her mother, when she heard it. The loud snapping of a stick in the road. She stopped immediately, straining her ears for anything that might have caused it. After a few moments of silence, she let out the breath she didn't even remember holding and continued on her path, only to stop again when another snap sounded through the silent day. Billa slowly drew her sword and looked around, hoping to catch sight of whatever it was causing the noise when she felt hot breath on the back of her neck. She froze, completely rigid, then quick as she could swung her body around, slashing the warg across its muzzle and backed away quickly. The warg howled in pain and reared away from her, while the Orc riding it snarled. Soon both were upon her, but Billa did not allow herself to lock up like she so dearly wished she could. Instead, she gripped her sword tightly and blocked the blow the Orc had leveled on her. Twisting her hands slightly, Billa brought her sword and the crude instrument the Orc used close to the ground before she let it up suddenly, causing the orc to become unbalanced. He growled and the warg brought itself closer to her, only to find one of her daggers hilt deep in between its eyes. The warg crumpled, taking its rider down with it.

The orc shrieked in rage and lunged at Billa, slashing at her in rapid, uncontrolled movements. Billa blocked as many as she could, but one of them caught her in the shoulder, cutting into her collarbone and making her cry out in pain. The orc grinned cruelly and raised his (she had assumed it was a male absentmindedly) arm to bring his sword into her chest, but she quickly kicked out and caught his legs and pulled, making him topple to the ground. Then she brought her sword down harshly, burying it in his chest. She listened as her took his last shuddering breaths, watched the black blood trickle from his opened mouth and the light fade from his eyes and suppressed the urge to vomit. The putrid smell of blood filled her nose and Billa turned away sharply, and she yanked the sword from his chest. She winced when the sword came free with a sickening squelch, and she brought a hand up to cover her nose. After taking a few deep, shuddering breaths, Billa stood and backed away from the dead Orc, smiling sadly at the thrush and squirrel that rested on both shoulders. As Billa began to make her way to her home, a long, pitiful wail broke through Hobbiton, and Billa stopped in her tracks once more. A growing sense of dread settled heavily in her stomach and her hands shook slightly.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no, NO!" Billa sprinted back to Bag End, where the wails originated from and tumbled through the high window. The cries of her father cut to her bones, and she knew she was too late. Her mother was dead.

 **~0~**

The next day, the Rangers arrived, along with one of the Istari. The snow had finally ceased its incessant fall, and by midday they had driven the remaining Orcs and wargs from the Shire. The frost was, slowly but surely, beginning to melt, and all of the Shire rejoiced as the first stirrings of Spring swept through the lands.

However, for the remaining residents of Bag End, it was hardly time to celebrate.

One week after the Fell Winter ended, Belladonna Baggins was put to rest in the Old Forest, surrounded by most of the Took Clan, her friends Mateon, whom had been one of the first Rangers to arrive in the Shire, Jamel and Jamie, and Celestain and Lothran. All had come to pay their respects, and to offer Billa words of comfort. Their family and friends attempted to speak to Bungo, but he simply did not respond to any words or touch besides that of his daughter. Once the two had arrived back at Bag End, Bungo locked himself in his bedroom for two weeks, barely eating except for what Billa forced down his throat.

"It won't be long now," she said softly to the animals gathered around her one afternoon as she sat in the garden. "He's fading, and I don't believe that I can stop it." Her prediction was, unfortunately, proven correct, for not two days after that, Bungo Baggins faded from this world. He was laid to rest next to his beloved wife, and everything was left to Billa; Bag End and all of its wealth and possessions.

Her family on the Baggins side objected heavily to this fact. Hardly anything had been left to her father's greedy family, and they were absolutely infuriated. After months of arguing and thinly veiled threats, it had finally come to Billa holding her cousin Lobelia Sackville-Baggins at sword point for trying to steal her mother's silver spoons from Rivendell that made the threats finally stop. She none so gently shoved Lobelia through the round door, threatened to run her through if she was ever seen on Bag End property, and promptly closed the door in her cousin's face.

Fifteen years later, Billa Baggins was everything a respectable hobbit was supposed to be. She carefully packed her armor away, hung up her bow and swords in the depths of a closet, and left only her dagger by her bed. It seemed old habits die hard.

The gardens of Bag End were well kept, and Billa was perfectly polite to everyone she saw. Granted, she was a bit of a recluse, and many frowned upon the fact that she was nearly fifty years old and still unmarried, thought she paid those words no mind, just like her father taught her to. The animals of the Shire still followed her, and she still spoke to her furry little friends, but only in the privacy of her own home. Billa was quite content with her life as it was.

She should have known it wouldn't last, especially when a particularly familiar wandering wizard stood before her gate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello all! Lord guys I'm sorry that it took so long to update, I'm having a pretty busy summer, but I'm doing the best that I can! Thank you to those that reviewed, and on to the story!**

 **Special thanks to this website for providing the screenplay and script of the Hobbit Trilogy. .**

 **I do not own the Hobbit, or any of its characters. The book/movies would have ended much differently if I did…**

 **~0~**

 **Chapter 1**

Billa glanced at the tall figure before her in annoyance. It was a beautiful day, and she had come to sit on the bench in her garden so that she may enjoy the sunlight, but the wizard had cast a shadow over her, blocking the light. When he made no motions towards moving, Billa sighed internally and smiled politely at him. "Good morning," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good on this morning or that it is a morning to be good on?"

Billa stared, flabbergasted, and finally managed to stutter, "All of them at once, I suppose." The wizard merely hummed in response. Billa finally broke the silence with a demanding, "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen." The slight annoyance she felt at his arrival grew. "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." Billa snorted softly and looked fully at the unwanted presence outside her gate.

"An adventure?" The hobbit shook her head. "I don't imagine anyone west of the Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner." She tried to ignore the slight pang in her heart at the words she had repeated verbatim from one of her cousins. It had been a not-entirely-offhanded comment about her mother, nearly a month after the funeral. Never let it be said that all Hobbits had tact, because –and Billa could personally attest to this- they didn't. Billa had to visibly restrain herself from attacking aforementioned cousin, many of her relatives could tell that much. Luckily, they seemed to have at least a grain of sense, for neither Belladonna nor Bungo Baggins were brought up again.

Billa stood from her spot on the bench and went around to check her mailbox. As she sifted through the various letters, she became increasingly aware of Gandlaf's not-so-subtle gaze on her person and she shifted uncomfortably. "Good morning," she finally said after a moment of silence, then turned to go back inside. Unfortunately for her, Gandalf spoke up once more.

"To think that I should have lived to be 'good morning'd by Belladonna Took's daughter, as if I was selling buttons at the door." This was said so indignantly that Billa almost felt chastised. Almost. But if anything that her mother had told her about this particular wandering wizard was anything to go by, he was very talented in the art of twisting words so that they may sound appealing to the ones he was speaking to. Billa really should have ignored him, she knew she should have.

But dammit, he had found her weak spot in mentioning her mother. Unfortunately for him, the reminder only served to make her even more irritated.

"I beg your pardon?" She turned sharply to face him, clutching her mail tightly in her hands so that she wouldn't be tempted to strangle the wizard.

"You've changed, Billa Baggins," he took her in once more and frowned deeply. "And I'm not entirely sure for the better."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Of course, Billa did know him, but she thought best to keep that to herself until the moment the information would irk him.

Gandalf stood a bit taller, not leaning on his staff as much as he was before, and Billa saw the pride rising in his gaze and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. My name is Gandalf, and Gandalf means…me."

 _'Oh,'_ the hobbit thought to herself. _'I know exactly what will rile him up.'_ Billa feigned thoughtfulness for a moment, before her eyes widened in false excitement. "Gandalf…not Gandalf, the Wandering Wizard," When Gandalf's expression turned smug and somewhat arrogant, as if happy she remembered his reputation, she continued, "Who made such _excellent_ fireworks!" The change was instantaneous; the smug look fell from his face faster than a hobbit ate his snack and Billa smirked internally. "Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! I didn't know you were still in business."

"And where else would I be?" Gandalf demanded. Billa fought hard to control the grin that wanted to take over her face; she knew he would likely not be happy that the only thing people remembered him for around here were his fireworks and not, well, his magic. The hobbit was just happy she was able to irritate him as much as he did her.

"Well, I'm please you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks," he added that last bit under his breath and scowled slightly, thoroughly amusing Billa, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "It's decided. It will be good for you, and most amusing to me." He turned and began to march away from her front gate. "I shall inform the others."

Billa started at his statement. "Inform who? What?" Then it dawned on her exactly what he meant. "No! No, no. We don't want any adventures here-" she steadfastly ignored the little voice in the back of her mind whispering that _yes she did, she wanted an adventure VERY much,_ "Not now, not ever. I suggest you try over The Hill or across the Water." She quickly made her way to the front door, stepped inside and turned to face the amused looking wizard. Fixing him with a quick glare, she repeated her "good morning", before slamming the door shut.

Billa slowly let out the breath she was holding as she leaned against her door. She shook her head ruefully and sighed resignedly. Knowing Gandalf, he would pay no heed to her denial of his request and have whatever "others" he mentioned come by her house regardless. With that in mind, Billa groaned slightly and made her way to the kitchen. While she loathed the idea of company at the moment, she was hardly going to let that get in the way of being a good host. As she went through her pantry she thanked Yvanna that she had gone to the market not two days ago. Her pantry was filled to the brim with meats, vines of fruits and vegetables, of wheels and blocks of cheese and jars of sauces and bushels of herbs and spices. In the far corner of the pantry multiple barrels of Elfish wine and one of Lothran's "special brews" of Dwarfish ales stood, along with a barrel or two of Hobbit mead. The hobbit shook her head when she spotted the ale, sighing fondly as she remembered her Uncle Lothran teaching her to out-drink a dwarf in between lessons of Khuzdul. She remembered clearly her mother's disapproval on the matter, and her father's hearty laughter as he convinced his wife otherwise. "If Billa was to learn a part of a culture," he mused, "Might it be fruitful for her to experience the full realm of said culture? We wouldn't want our daughter to catch herself in a social or cultural taboo, now would we flower?" Belladonna had glared at her husband for the usage of her nickname, but she sighed and nodded her consent. Billa had giggled happily at the happy exclamations her uncle released, while her Aunt Celestain rolled her eyes at her husband's actions.

Billa shook her head again to dispel the memories and rolled her sleeves up. If she was expecting company, then she would have to start preparing.

 **~0~**

Soon, Billa found herself sat at her small table with a plate of fish in front of her. So far, none had shown up at her door, and for that she was grateful. By the time dinner had rolled around, she had been able to clean and clear out all five of the guest bedrooms in Bag End and prepared enough food to empty nearly all of the shelves from her pantry. She had been able to take a quick bath before, and had just donned her dressing gown over a pair of leggings and a tunic, not caring in the slightest for propriety tonight. If the others that Gandalf had mentioned did indeed come tonight, then they most certainly would not be hobbits, that much Billa knew. She figured that, since they would not be hobbits, and it is her smial they would be converging at, that she could wear what she wished.

As she was bringing her drink to the table and sitting, what sounded like a war cry sounded from behind her. Billa turned in shock to see four of the birds that quite often seek her yard and smial for shelter hopping up and down on the mantle of her fireplace and looking at her expectantly. The smallest of them –a cardinal, yet obviously the ringleader– flew towards her shoulder and tugged a strand of her wet hair gently. Billa chuckled and smiled down at the bird. "Would you all care for some?" she asked.

 _"Why is that even a question, Billa?"_ Billa turned to face the other three and smiled fondly. The merlin that had spoken was the most bold among the quartet, usually the one to snark back at the hobbit. Now, one wouldn't think that animals, much less birds, could indeed snark, but Billa knew differently. Animals were extremely intelligent creatures, and were just as capable of speaking their mind or letting you know what they wanted from you as any other person was (or dwarf, elf, hobbit…you get the idea.)

Billa kindly didn't comment on the nervous tittering of the blue jay and thrush on either side of their larger friend and rose from her seat. "I ask that question, dear El, because I just wish to be sure before I set out your favorite grains and have you all completely ignore it, only for Angus to eat it all." El shuddered and narrowed her amber eyes at the hobbit.

 _"I thought we agreed not to mention that thrice damned_ cat," the last word was practically hissed through the merlin's beak. _"Especially after what he did."_

"Oh honestly El it was an accident. He didn't mean to bite you."

 _"He most certainly did! It was BOTH legs, Billa. One, I can excuse,"_ El leapt from the mantle and landed next to Billa's plate of fish, looking longingly at the dinner. _"But two legs, I cannot ignore."_ Billa snorted and went into her pantry to fix the birds a dinner. Normally, the birds would eat from the multitude of feeders Billa had secured around both of her yards, but sometimes she liked to indulge her friends. The grains she used to make porridge with, along with sunflower seeds and some dried berries went into a small bowl for the three little ones, and she snicked a small handful of chicken for El to feast on as well. Once the four had begun to eat their own dinner, Billa heard a knock at her door. The hobbit froze for a moment, knowing that it was one of the one's Gandalf no doubt sent her way, and shook herself. Tying her dressing gown loosely around her hips, Billa moved her friend's food to the sitting room and motioned for them to keep quiet. She could have sworn the cardinal's eyes had rolled, but she couldn't be sure. She went down the hall and took a deep breath, then opened the door.

 **~0~**

Dwalin honestly did not know what he was expecting when he finally found the house Gandalf had spoken of, but a small hobbit lass was not it.

He had been traveling through the Shire all day, wanting to get through the damn place as fast as he could without arousing suspicion. He was vaguely surprised that many of the hobbits did not look too surprised to see a dwarf in their lands, and wondered if they were used to travelers such as him. The warrior had snorted at the thought; if they weren't, they were sure going to get an eyeful as the rest of the company joined him.

As the dwarf wandered closer to Hobbiton, he studied the creatures around him. Many of the men were working in fields, talking and laughing amongst themselves, their curls bouncing around many of their necks and shining in the sunlight. The women were typically in the market or in their own yards, gossiping and drinking tea. The moment they spotted him, however, all talk silenced. Then the murmurs began. Dwalin was used to this kind of behavior after the hundred years his people had spent in exile, especially towards himself. He knew he looked rather intimidating, what with two axes strapped to his back, tattoos and permanent scowl, and he didn't even bother to acknowledge the hobbits in his path. The warrior did not see what was so special about this race, but Gandalf insisted that a hobbit would be the perfect one to fill the company's vacant position. The ones he had seen so far had been judgmental, and looked far too content with their gentle lives to risk leaving their little holes in the ground.

With these thoughts in mind, Dwalin slowed his approach when he reached his destination. The house was built seemingly into the small hill it rested in, with a round green door and what looked like a small army of wildflowers in the beds on either side of the front door. He sighed, staring forlornly at the glowing rune etched into the bottom corner of the door, knowing that this was where Gandalf intended them all to go. As he passed through the small gate and made his way to the door, he absently wondered how Thorin would take to such a gentle creature on the road with them, and knew that his king would likely see the hobbit as a liability. A burden. Dwalin sighed again and knocked, hoping whatever poor lad Gandalf had convinced to house them would decline the offer. He did not wish to see someone taken from their home as he and his kin had been ripped from theirs.

The door opened and Dwalin had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping. Because before him was not a man that he had been expecting, but a _woman._ Her form was outlined by the light coming from inside her home, forming a golden haze around her like a halo. Dwalin could tell that she was wearing leggings under her dressing gown as his gaze traveled down her legs and stopped at her large feet, before moving up again. She seemed just as surprised to see him, if the widening of her startling blue eyes was any indication, but she quickly covered her shock with a polite smile. Dwalin was stunned for a moment, wondering just what in Mahal's name Gandalf had been thinking sending them here, before she spoke.

"Good evening," she said with a light voice, and Dwalin was even more shocked when she bowed deeply before him. "Billa Baggins, at your service." She straightened up and suddenly a twinkle of amusement entered her eyes when she noticed his gobsmacked expression. Gandalf had given the company the name of their host, of course, but Dwalin had assumed that it was the lass's husband, or possibly her brother. But no, Billa Baggins was the name the wizard had given; he just failed to inform them of the fact that their supposed burglar was female. _'Thorin is going to murder that damned wizard,'_ the dwarf thought. He cleared his throat and bowed, repeating the Dwarven greeting (how exactly a Hobbit of all things knew this, he couldn't be sure) and met her eyes once more.

"Well, do come in, Master Dwalin. I'm assuming you're one of the elusive 'others' that Gandalf spoke of?" When he nodded in agreement, the hobbit smiled. "Wonderful. If you like, you may leave your larger weapons and pack in the closet, but feel free to leave whatever knives you undoubtedly have on your person with you. I know how you dwarves are with trust and unfamiliar houses, but if it's any consolation, I have no intention on attacking any of you." This time Dwalin's jaw did drop in astonishment, growing slightly suspicious of the small creature in front of him. How did she know so much about dwarves? She looked barely old enough to be an adult, much less have _any_ experience with his race. His thoughts were brought to a halt when the hobbit continued. "However, I do understand if the extra protection would provide you some small comfort. I will not even attempt to ask you to remove your armor." Dwalin instinctively growled and glared at the girl before him, but stopped when she chuckled, seemingly unaffected by his slight intimidation act. He had to admit, he was reluctantly impressed with her so far.

"The kitchen is right down the hall, first door on the left. I hate to ask this of a guest, but I might need your help with getting everything ready for the rest of you to arrive." Then she walked off, and Dwalin was once again taken by the fact that she turned her back, completely, on an obviously very seasoned warrior that she had only just met, and stubbornly refused to acknowledge the slight warmth that flooded his chest at the sign of trust she unknowingly showed him. Though, as he was removing the battle axes from his back, he realized that maybe she did know what she was doing. The dwarf shook his head and sighed.

"Mahal help us," he muttered softly, then turned to follow his host. When he entered the large kitchen, Dwalin's eyed widened at the sheer amount of food the small woman had set out on the long table. He stared in awe at the tiny body flittering around the room and started when she suddenly stopped.

"Dear Yvanna," she muttered, "How could I forget to lock away my valuables?" Dwalin's mood turned sour at her statement and he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring heatedly at the hobbit as she gathered small bits of cloth in her hands.

"If you think we're going to _rob_ you-"

"Rob me?" Billa stopped her movements and turned to face him with a bewildered expression. Whatever gave you that idea?" Dwalin didn't answer, and she seemed to realize what words she had spoken, for her eyes widened in apology and she shook her head vehemently. "No, no, Master Dwalin! No, I do not believe that you will rob me." She sighed and looked beseechingly at him. "I only meant that I'd rather not have to scrape food from my mother's fine china, and have my doilies used at napkins. I did not mean to imply anything, and I hope you can forgive me. My mouth moves faster than my brain at times and my words get away from me." At this she blushed slightly but refused to drop his gaze. Dwalin could see that she was sincere in her apology and after a few tense moments he nodded in assent. The lass visibly relaxed and gave him a blinding smile, freezing Dwalin in place.

"Excellent! Well, I'm going to put these away. Feel free to help yourself to any food, and I'll be right back with the ale." With that she started packing a wooden box with what Dwalin assumed what the "fine china" she spoke of, turning her back to him once more. Dwalin shook his head slowly at the action and moved to take one of the plates that had been stacked on the edge of the table, eyeing the array of food the hobbit had laid out. Meats of all kind, ranging from grilled and blackened chicken to a platter of sausage links and what looked to be steaks sat in the middle of the table, and around them were bowls and plates filled with what looked to be sides. Mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables, plates of fish and mounds of rice; rolls and sticks of bread with some sort of red sauce that smelled _heavenly_ , dried beef sticks and stuffings and two medium sized bowls of tossed salad sat all around.

He stuffed his plate with meats and a few of the sides, nearly moaning with pleasure at the taste. He had to force himself to breathe between bites of food; it had been long since he had had a decent meal, and with the food settling in his belly and the warmth of the fire seeping into his bones, Dwalin felt content in this little hole in the ground. He jumped slightly when a large mug of ale –Dwarfish ale, from the Iron Hills, he was shocked to see– landed in front of his plate, and he nodded in thanks to his host. Billa simply smiled and eyed him for a moment, blue eyes lighting up, before she shook her head. "I had meant to ask this earlier," she said, "But exactly how many of you will there be?"

Dwalin stared at the hobbit in confusion for a moment before a dawning horror set in his blood. "Did Gandalf not inform you?" he asked warily, afraid of the answer. The hobbit's snort was enough answer and he felt shame creeping into his expression.

"Hardly. Bloody wizard walked up to me this morning, declaring that he was going on an adventure and, despite my protests, informed me that there would be 'others' with him later today. I've known Gandalf for most of my life, so I know how he is with these kinds of things, and I figured that I might as well cook a lot of food. Better to have too much than too little, in my opinion." She was staring at the wall across from them with a scowl on her face, so she hadn't seen his face, but Dwalin was absolutely mortified by his behavior. The lass hadn't known who would be showing up at her door, or how many would be joining them, and he had simply walked in without so much as a "by-your-leave". Something she said jumped out at the dwarf and he dared a glance at his host.

"Gandalf spoke to you this morning?" She nodded. "When was the last time you had seen the wizard?"

Billa thought for a moment and shrugged. "Nearly ten years now, I'd reckon." Dwalin groaned and faced the woman completely.

"Forgive me, Miss Baggins, I am truly sorry. Gandalf had told us that you had been informed beforehand. I offer my sincerest apologizes for any offense I might have given tonight." Billa giggled and shook her head.

"It is not your fault, Master Dwalin, do not look so down." When the warrior still looked forlorn, she sighed and nodded decisively. "How about this. We wait for the rest of your companions to join us, and when everyone is here I'll let you help me strangle the wizard. Deal?" Dwalin was slightly shocked at the simple threat against the wizard, and even more so by the hard glint that had entered the woman's eyes when she issued said threat, before he nodded slowly. Billa smiled once more, appeased, and looking expectantly at him. "So, back to my original questions, how many should I expect tonight?" Dwalin grimaced and hesitantly looked at her face once more.

"Thirteen dwarves, and Gandalf."

The warrior sighed internally at the hobbit's expression of shock and disbelief and prepared himself to stand from the table so as to not burden her any more when her chuckle stopped him.

"Well," she said, grinning widely. "This'll be interesting. I do hope I have enough ale for everyone." Suddenly the sound of knocking sounded through the home and Billa straightened. "You sit here and enjoy your dinner, Master Dwalin, and I shall retrieve your companion." Without giving him a chance to answer, Billa spun on her heel and quickly made her way out of the kitchen. Dwalin heard the door opening and sighed, taking a long gulp of his ale. This was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry guys, this isn't a chapter. Don't worry, the next one is coming, but it'll be a lot later than I intended for it to. My dad and step mother are filing for divorce and my step mom is literally bat shit crazy and it's been hell over here for a while. I'm trying to take care of my sister as well while my parents work everything out, while my mom and step dad are also selling our house, so I'm also in the process of moving and babysitting my brother when I'm over there. Long story short it's a hectic summer and I won't be consistent with my updates. I ask that you please be patient with me because I am doing all that I can to update as quickly as possible. Never lose hope, my dears, for this story shall not be forgotten! The next update, I'm hoping, will be up sometime this week, so look for it! I cannot apologize enough for the wait.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Minn**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello all! Thank you guys so much for the reviews, I really appreciate them, especially with my home-life as of now. Seriously, words cannot describe how touched I was when reading your well-wishes.**

 **Again, I'm so sorry the updates are so spacey, but I'm trying my best, I promise, things are just extremely hectic. This is going to be a bit of a shorter-than-I-would-like chapter, but I thought I wouldn't prolong an update just so I could extend the chapter. The next couple chapters will focus on Billa's meeting with the dwarves, and explaining the quest to Erebor. This is a movie-verse fic, remember, so for those of you that haven't seen the movies…why haven't you seen the movies yet?!**

 **Anyways, onto the story!**

 **I do not own the Hobbit, or any of its characters. All OCs are my own, the Hobbit belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson. Don't sue, I have no money.**

 **~0~**

 **Chapter 2**

Billa sighed as she stepped out of the kitchen, rolling her eyes skyward in exasperation. _'That thrice damned wizard,'_ she thought despairingly. The hobbit hoped that she had enough food for thirteen dwarves, and was ever more grateful to her uncle for teaching her dwarfish customs. At least she wasn't going into this completely blind, though she was still uncertain as to what exactly Gandalf wanted from her. She quickly shook her head of such thoughts and opened the round front door, seeing yet another dwarf on her front step. He looked older than Dwalin, with white hair and a long white beard tucked into his belt. He smiled kindly at her, and bowed as low as he could with his slightly protruding belly. "Balin, son of Fundin, at your service," he greeted warmly.

Billa smiled as well, and returned the bow. "Billa Baggins, at yours and your family's." If Balin was surprised by the dwarfish greeting, he did not show it, and Billa beckoned him inside. After repeating the instructions given to Dwalin, she led him to the kitchen. Balin had definitely given her an odd look as he shed his heavier weapons and pack, but, once again, didn't mention it and simply followed her. Billa had a hard time concealing her smirk when his mouth dropped open, though she gently nudged him in the direction of the table when she noticed that Dwalin had seen his kin.

"Oh, evening brother!" Balin smiled and hobbled over to the bald dwarf. Dwalin smirked and eyed his brother closely.

"By my beard," he groused. "You're shorter and wider than last we met." Billa stifled a giggle, though it seemed Dwalin had caught it if his glance in her direction was anything to go by. Balin chuckled, missing his brother's wayward attention on their host.

"Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for the both of us." Dwalin hummed in response, and lifted his hands to lay on his brother's forearms, Balin doing the same. The two moved at the same time, smashing their foreheads together in typical dwarfish-fashion, though Billa still winced slightly. She remembered when Lothran had taught her that particular greeting, which was usually reserved for close family and friends. Billa had a rather large bump on her head and a persistent headache for nearly a week after her uncle's greeting, something that her mother had been none too pleased about.

As Billa handed Balin a plate and a mug of ale, she heard a loud thump from further in Bag End, then a piercing squawk rang throughout the halls of the hobbit hole. Billa winced and held her hands in a sign of surrender as Dwalin practically leapt from his spot with the steak knife in his hand, glaring at every corner in sight as if waiting for an attack. But the hobbit knew exactly what had caused that particular ruckus.

 _"El will you calm down?!"_

 _"NO! There are others in Bag End and I want to see!"_

 _"Dammit El, Billa does not want us to disturb her guests, which, may I point out,_ YOU ARE DOING!"

Billa internally groaned, wondering why the Valar decided to torture her so, and turned to face Dwalin fully. "Please, Master Dwalin, put away the knife. There is no threat to you here." The burly dwarf eyed her apprehensively, but whatever he was searching for he must have found, for he slowly set the knife on the table and sat once more. Billa let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and smiled apologetically at the two dwarves. "I am truly sorry for that, I thought they would behave. Apparently I was wrong." The last sentence was said a bit louder, and aimed over her shoulder, and she knew damn well that the birds heard her when a sudden silence rang. The hobbit huffed slightly and glanced at Balin and Dwalin once more.

"If you will both excuse me, I need to see what those winged demons broke in my sitting room." Dwalin looked simply bewildered by her statement and shot a glance out the doorway of the dining room, as if actually expecting to see winged demons, while his brother looked delightfully amused.

"Not at all, deary," Balin replied kindly. Billa shot them both a smile and quickly strode towards the sitting room. Luckily the one she had migrated her friends to was the secondary sitting room, closer to the master bedroom in the back of the house than the primary sitting room which was next to the dining room, and Billa let herself feel proud for her foresight, because now she could fuss without an audience. The look she leveled on the four birds in front of her could have frozen their wings if given the ability.

 _"Billa! What a pleasant-"_ Whatever El was going to say was halted completely with Billa's raised hand. The smaller birds around the room tittered nervously, wondering what the hobbit would say to them. Eventually, Billa turned her frosty gaze to the bright splash of red standing next to the large falcon.

"Listen to me, all of you. I have guests over at the moment, and more will be arriving soon. I brought you all in here in the hopes that if you _behaved-_ " El ducked her head when Billa's gaze landed on her once more. "Then you would be able to see them." The four birds nodded, thoroughly chastised, though they all knew the words were meant more for El than any of them. The cardinal glared at the bird of prey and hopped closer to the hobbit.

 _"We'll behave Billa. We would very much like to meet these guests of yours."_ Billa smiled and the tension in the room dissipated, something that made the two small birds attempting to hide in one of the corners eternally grateful.

"Do you remember what I've told you all about my uncle Lothran," she asked. When El's head snapped up to look at her, Billa's smile morphed into a grin.

 _"You have_ dwarves _here?_ " El practically screeched, making Billa shush her. _"Actual dwarves?"_ Billa nodded and her grin widened at the falcon's excited fluttering. _"Can we see them Billa, please can we see them? I've never seen a real dwarf before, and all the stories you have told me make them out to be so interesting!"_

Billa chuckled and nodded. "Yes, yes, you may see them, but only if you behave! I'll come back to get you all when everyone is here, how does that sound?" The four birds twittered in agreement, though El looked like she was physically restraining herself from flying to the dining room anyways. Billa rolled her eyes and gave the three smaller birds a look that clearly said "Don't let her do anything." To which the three ducked their heads in ascent and Billa turned on her heel, leaving the room to the birds. She was heading back to the dining room, but upon hearing the doorbell ring turned towards her entrance hall.

Beyond the round door of her smial stood two young-looking dwarves, nearly equal in height. The one on the left was blonde, stocky, with a short beard tied into braids that hung down from either side of his mouth and pale blue eyes. He was decked in furs and armor, with two twin swords hanging from his belt. The one on the right looked a little younger than the former, with dark hair that hung loose around his shoulders and equally as dark eyes. The dwarf barely had a beard, but Billa found that the scruff rather suited him, but it was only a further testament to how young he was. Under one arm he carried what appeared to be a quiver and bow, and a sword. They were both rather handsome, and where they appeared serious before, when they registered she was female, bright grins shone one their faces.

"Fili," the blonde said.

"And Kili," the brunette added.

"At your service." Billa stifled a giggle as they simultaneously spoke and bowed low in front of her.

Kili's smile seemed to widen at the amusement he undoubtedly saw in her eyes. "You must be Mrs. Boggins," he said pleasantly, though Billa froze for a moment, before shaking her head slowly.

"I am not married, Master Kili." Kili looked confused for a moment, but Fili quickly took over.

"Ah, so Mr. Billa is your brother then?" Billa felt her eyes widen for a moment, then remembered Dwalin's expression when she introduced herself and sighed, leaning against her door for a moment.

"No, Master Fili, I have no brother." She straightened and bowed deeply, stating her name and offering the dwarfish greeting, then grinning a bit at the boys' shocked expressions. "Gandalf didn't tell you that I was female, did he?" When they both shook their heads, Billa rolled her eyes, internally cursing that damned wizard before sweeping her door wide open. "Right, well. Leave your packs and weapons in the closet, though do feel free to keep a knife or two. Whichever makes you more comfortable. Also, please wipe your boots on the doormat." With a pointed look at both sets of mud-covered boots, Billa turned on her heel and waited for the tell-tale sound of feet following her before walking deeper into the house.

"The kitchen is down here, on the left. Two of your companions have already arrived, and there is food prepared for you and ale available. All I ask is you do not climb on the tables, they've been in the family for generations and I know how you dwarves get when you're hungry and excited. But please, enjoy yourselves." Receiving twin smiles from the dwarves she pushed them towards the entrance of the dining room, seeing Dwalin and Balin stand to greet their two young companions. Just as she was about to enter behind them, she heard a rather loud commotion outside her front door, then multiple knocks on the wood. She slowly let out a breath and ran her fingers through her golden curls.

" _Here goes nothing,"_ thought Billa, then opened her door.

She quickly had to leap out of the way as a literal avalanche of dwarves tumbled through the door. _"Oh sweet Eru help me."_

 **~0~**

When Billa had vacated the dining room, Dwalin turned to face his brother with a grim look. Balin sighed and began slowly eating his meal. "Now brother," he started disapprovingly, but Dwalin interrupted him.

"The wizard lied to us," he grumbled, glaring into his mead as if it would solve his problems. Balin glanced at him, still eating.

"About what? Our burglar being a woman?" Dwalin glanced at his brother with hard eyes over the brim of his tankard.

"No. About informing her of our arrival. She told me that Gandalf showed up at her door this morning, attempting to guilt her into joining our quest. And here's the kicker." Dwalin took a sip of ale and met Balin's eyes. "She hadn't seen him previously for ten years."

That gave Balin pause. The old dwarf lowered his fork to his plate and eyed his brother. "Ten years?" he asked. Dwalin nodded and set his tankard down, watching as their host glided past the entry way to the dining room. Balin sighed and rubbed his forehead. "That is…not what the wizard had told us." His brother snorted, nodding in grim agreement. Balin raised his head, looking intently at his brother. "What do you make her for?" he asked, noting the contemplative expression on Dwalin's face.

"She's got a spine, I'll give her that. Had not a care in the world for Gandalf's schemes, but knew enough about him to expect something like this to happen. Haven't seen her fight, of course, and don't really know if she'll be of much use to us. And…" Balin eyed his brother closely, wondering what else he had gathered from his brief moments with the hobbit.

"There's something…off, about her. Not sure what it is, but something's different." The warrior tilted his head a bit, hearing Billa open the door and greet whomever had shown. "She seemed to know a lot about dwarves, for a Halfling. I doubt the lass has done much traveling in her life, much less run into any of our kind. Knew better than to suggest I take off my armor and all of my weapons at least." Balin was surprised by that tidbit of information.

"Do you think we can trust her," he asked softly, hearing three sets of footsteps getting closer to where they were sitting. Dwalin thought for a moment, but nodded slowly.

"Aye," he muttered. "At least for now." And Balin nodded, because while his brother wasn't normally talkative and was much more likely to strangle someone rather than make friends, he was an excellent strategist and a brilliant judge of character. It was because of his intuition that Balin and many others had survived in exile. So he would trust his brother, and he would watch their host a bit more closely. Though Miss Baggins was polite and refreshing in her clear disregard for his race, Balin could also tell that there was more to this hobbit than met the eye. Obviously, or else Gandalf wouldn't have suggested her as the fourteenth member of their Company. Balin resolved to discover what it was about this hobbit that made her so special.

But first, he would finish the delicious food set in front of him.

 **~0~**

Billa groaned softly at the mud that was beginning to cake her hallways. Not that the dwarves didn't try to wipe their boots, because they did, but there was still a fair amount of mud that stubbornly clung to the soles of their thick boots and apparently decided to take up new residence on her floors. She ran her hand through her hair in agitation as she listened to the gaggle of dwarves in her dining room. There was shouting and laughing and no shortage of belches, and Billa found herself reluctantly smiling at the cacophony of sounds. Bag End hadn't heard this much excitement in a long while, and the smial seemed to glow with the happiness from its guests. The hobbit sighed and turned to face the opening of her dining room, then froze in horror.

Fili was walking in between the platters of meat in the middle of the dining room table as he passed around tankards of what appeared to be a second barrel of dwarvish ale. Somehow a few of them had snagged some books from the sitting room down the hall and were using them as coasters, and all but destroying her cutlery (or at least the few that were actually _using_ the utensils; most of them just scooped up the various foods with their hands). Dwalin she could see was attempting to pull Fili from the table and stop Bofur from throwing his empty plate at another dwarf with an axe in his head (was it his cousin? Brother? She knew his name was Bifur at least, so that was something). One of them, she believed he introduced himself as Dori, was snooping around her cabinets, and pulled out her mother's tea set. That sent Billa over the edge.

"ENOUGH!" she roared. The room suddenly went deathly silent, and most of the company stared in shock at the little hobbit in front of them. Dwalin, who had been afraid of this happening, took a step towards their host. He opened his mouth to apologize but stopped abruptly when Billa raised her hand towards him. The dwarves seemed even more shocked by the gruff warrior being silenced by the small hobbit and a few snickers could be heard (mainly from Fili and Kili), though they were also silenced when Billa's harsh glare turned onto the occupants of the room.

"If this is how you all behave as a guest in a dwarf-lord's halls then you should be ashamed of yourselves." Whatever the dwarves had expected her to say, it obviously hadn't been this. Nearly everyone in the room let their eyes widen in surprise at her knowledge of their customs. But before another sound was uttered, Billa let her frosty gaze rest on the two young princes, and the older dwarves watched in awe as the hobbit's ice blue eyes made both dwarves cower where they stood.

"You two," she hissed. "I specifically asked you _not_ to climb on my tables, and what do I come in here to find?" Fili ducked his head in shame, not meeting his host's eyes, while Kili looked simply terrified. "When you finish your meals you will clean up the mess you undoubtedly made on my table, am I clear?"

The immediate "Yes, Miss Baggins," was hurried as they rushed to do her bidding, practically inhaling their food.

"The four of you," Bombur, Nori, Oin and Gloin froze as her attention turned to them. "Those are books, very _rare_ , very _ancient_ books, as you can clearly see. Why you decided to use them as coasters, I will not know. Put them exactly where you found them last, and should I find any rings on the covers I _will_ have your beads." Every one of the dwarves froze at her threat, wondering if she knew exactly what she had just threatened of them, but from the cool surety in her eyes, they knew she was very much aware. Bombur and Oin nodded slowly, not wanting to raise the small hobbit's ire, while Nori and Gloin threw her irritated and highly affronted looks.

"Now, see here lassie," Gloin started, but was interrupted by Billa.

"No, _you_ see here, Master Gloin." The fierceness in her tone silenced any attempts from Gloin to talk over her. "You are all guests in my home, guests that I did not know were arriving until early this morning. Now, I understand that my lack of knowledge is not of your doing," She then glared at Gandalf, who had suddenly become very interested in an invisible piece of dirt on his grey robes. "But I will not tolerate this. This is my home, and you have all made a right mess of it! I've slaved away all day cooking this feast for you, preparing baths and rooms for you, and how do you lot repay my kindness? Coming in here, treating me as if I am nothing more than a glorified barmaid while you trod mud into my carpets, all but _destroy_ my plumbing, and think yourselves entitled to do whatever you please, like _digging through my cabinets and taking out my mother's prized china_ set-" Dori's face flushed red and he too looked down. "And don't think for a moment that I did not see you nick a trinket or two, Master Nori, _because I did_." She hardly noticed the harsh glare Dori sent his younger brother, instead choosing to simply stare the aforementioned dwarf into silent submission as he slowly emptied his pockets of the baubles he had indeed taken from her mantle. Once he was done, Billa gave a short nod and faced Gloin once more, who looked more than a little shell-shocked.

"I invited your company into Bag End. I could just as easily see you out." Gloin leveled her with a hard stare, but Billa looked entirely unimpressed and did not cower in the slightest. Eventually, the red-headed dwarf nodded in acceptance of her words and carefully picked up the book from under his tankard, checking it for rings and leaving the dining room to put it in its proper place, Nori following close behind. She nodded again and faced Bofur, who's face had paled at the sudden attention of the angry hobbit.

"Throwing my plates? Really, Master Bofur?" was all she said, leaving him with the same glare that had him lowering the plate onto the table immediately. "And you, Mister Bifur, encouraging him! Do none of you have any sense of manners?" Bifur shuffled his feet, obviously not being able to respond, but Billa paid that no mind as she addressed the remaining dwarves.

Ori stiffened in fear upon seeing her turn to him, hoping he hadn't done anything wrong, but was surprised by the smile that suddenly overcame her features. "And to the three of you," she said in a much kinder tone, "I offer my gratitude. It's nice to know that there are indeed still people who know how to behave in such situations as this. You three may have first selection of the rooms available." Ori just nodded in shock, muttering a faint "Thank you, Miss Baggins," while Balin's face broke into an amused smile, uttering his thanks as well. Dwalin nodded in his gruff way, but Billa didn't seem to mind as she practically beamed at them.

The hobbit stood by the kitchen fireplace as the rest of the dwarves finished their meal in silence, occasionally catching the eyes of Gloin, Fili and Kili, though the latter two would quickly look away in fear of getting yelled at again. As everyone cleared the table, Fili and Kili took the rags that Billa had handed them and began scrubbing the table, though with a bit of care since they had remembered her comment about it being in the family for generations (though how they remembered that much and not the bit about _walking on the damn table_ was still a mystery to Billa). The dwarves glanced warily at the hobbit as she approached the table, but sighed in relief when all she did was grab two plate and pile them high with the leftover food. She set one aside, along with a tankard of ale, and chose a glass of Elvish wine for herself to sip on as she sat on Gandalf's left, directly across from Balin and to the right of the empty chair at the head of the table. Billa knew it was for whomever was leading this quest of theirs, and found herself curious as to who exactly they were following, and, once again, what this quest _was._

As she finished her plate, Gandalf cleared his throat, obviously hoping to gain Billa's attention. He did, but frowned at the blank stare she gifted him with.

"Do not think for a moment that you are off the hook, Gandalf." The sheer lack of warmth in her tone made a shiver run down the backs of most everyone gathered, and they found themselves holding their breaths, wondering what their feisty host would do next. But Billa just stared at the wizard, slowly standing and gathering her dishes. "I will speak to you at a later time." Just as Gandalf opened his mouth to respond, three loud knocks echoed through the silent hobbit hole. Billa glanced at the dwarves, noticing the sudden hope and subdued excitement that seemed to fill their eyes, before she caught Gandlaf's gaze once more. The wizard sighed and glanced towards the door.

"He's here."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello all! Thank you to everyone that reviewed, and again, I am so sorry that it took so long for that chapter to be posted. I'm glad y'all like what you've read so far!**

 **So, just a quick side note, for any of you that might have read my Merlin fanfiction** _ **I'll Love You 'Till the Day I Die,**_ **I'll be posting a second chapter soon, because so many asked for a sequel.**

 **Onto the chapter!**

 **I do not own The Hobbit or any of its characters.**

 **~0~**

 **Chapter 3**

Billa took a steadying breath as she made her way to the front door. She could hear the dwarves behind her, anxious to catch a glimpse of their missing member, and she threw an apprehensive look towards Gandalf, wondering just what she had gotten herself into. Before she could talk herself out of it, Billa grasped the handle and opened the door.

Standing on the other side was quite possibly the most regal looking being she had ever encountered in her life. The dwarf was tall, with long locks of jet black hair hanging around his shoulders, though Billa could see the various strands of silver shining through. He cut a rather imposing figure in his furs and armor, with his sword strapped to his back and a rucksack at his feet. And when he lifted his head, Billa nearly forgot how to breathe. Ice blue eyes never spared her a glance as they passed over her shoulder, taking in the company behind her and letting the barest hint of a smile grace his lips.

"Gandalf," he grumbled. Billa will deny it to her dying breath, but the hobbit felt a shudder ripple down her spine at the richness of this dwarf's voice. _'Who_ is _this dwarf?'_ she thought, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the hobbit hole. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

That easily snapped Billa from her trance. "Mark? No, there's no mark on my door…" She opened her door once more and glanced at the outside, seeing a blue shimmering rune engraved at the bottom. Billa felt her irritation spike once more as she turned towards the slightly sheepish-looking wizard. "Dammit, Gandalf! I just had that painted last week." The wizard huffed softly and quickly changed the subject.

"Billa Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our Company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Billa felt her breath catch in her throat. "Oakenshield?" she whispered in shock, letting her gaze fall on the dwarf in question, who finally seemed to notice she was there. He slowly let his eyes take in every inch of her, traveling up her legs and taking in the long golden curls and lightly tanned skin belonging to her. When his eyes met hers, Billa could see the derision in his gaze, and the awe she had previously felt at seeing the exiled King of Erebor in her home dissipate like a fire doused.

If he noticed the recognition in her eyes, he said nothing of it, instead choosing to slowly prowl around her small body. "So, this is the Hobbit," he said. "Tell me, Miss Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Billa could feel the anger stoking its fire in her belly, and she crossed her arms over her chest, keeping her eyes locked onto Thorin's.

"Pardon me?" she asked. Thorin's eyes seemed to hold an infinite amount of judgement against her, and Billa could clearly see it. Dwalin could see it as well, apparently, because the warrior took a wary step towards the two circling each other.

"Thorin, don't-" he warned, but Thorin simply ignored his protest.

"Axe or sword," he kept his eyes on Billa's own. "What is your weapon of choice?" The hobbit felt her eyes narrow as the fire burned in her abdomen, desperately wanting to put this arrogant dwarf in his place. Thorin seemed to think her pause was answer enough, for a smirk graced his features.

"Thought as much," he sneered, turned back to face his kin. "She's a woman, and looks more like a grocer than a burglar." He expected to hear laughter from the dwarves around him, but nearly every one of them paled, glancing frantically between him and the small hobbit behind him. He looked at Balin in confusion, which only mounted as the older dwarf just shook his head in despair, but a low chuckle brought his attention back around.

"Woman? Was that meant to be an insult?" Thorin turned to see the hobbit had moved back to her open front door, laying a hand on the wood. She wasn't looking at him as she spoke. "I would be offended if I thought you a man." She pushed the door closed with enough force that the loud _BANG_ of it slamming shut made many of the dwarves flinch. Thorin stared, affronted, wondering if this slight creature knew exactly who she was speaking to.

"I beg your pardon?" he growled, clenching his hands into fists and glaring at the hobbit that slowly stalked towards him. She didn't look intimidated in the slightest, and that only angered him more.

"You heard me, Mister Oakenshield," she retorted sharply, her hands on her hips. "I have already had this discussion with your companions, but I will be happy to have it with you as well. This," she gestured with her arms at the walls around her. "This is my home, and you are all my guests. I did not have to invite you in, I did not have to feed your or offer a place to sleep for the night, but I am doing so anyways, despite my common sense practically _screaming_ that I shouldn't. And you come waltzing into my home, thinking that you may do whatever you wish and say what you please, but that is not how this is going to work." Thorin pulled his lips back in a snarl and he took a step closer to her.

"You have no right to speak to me in such a way," he hissed, but Billa's glare sharpened as she too stepped up to him, nearly chest to chest with him, and Thorin thought he managed to hide his surprise at the daring of this tiny creature fairly well.

"And you have the right to speak to me as such?" she demanded, her tone sharp and scathing. "I know damn well who you are, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, Prince of Erebor." Her eyes shone with smug satisfaction as he stumbled away from her with eyes bulging in shock, nearly gawping at her, but she continued. "The dwarves may view you as their ruler but _you are not my King._ I am not your servant, your slave, or your subject. I do not have to take your judgement and your unwarranted disgust in _my own home!"_ By the end of her rant she was shouting, and she forced herself to close her eyes and take a deep breath so she could calm down. After a moment, Billa raised her eyes once more and locked gazes with Thorin's stock still form.

"So, as I see it, you have two options here, Mister Oakenshield. You and your company can either stay here, accept my hospitality and _maybe_ my assistance on whatever quest you are leading, or you may all take your things and leave, and I can direct you to the nearest inn." Gandalf suddenly moved to protest, attempting to move between the mass of dwarves standing in front of him

"Now Billa, let's not do anything drastic," he implored, but Billa turned her glare to him, freezing him in place.

"I will not stand here and take insults from self-entitled, arrogant dwarves that know nothing of me and judge me for nothing other than my gender. He may either step off his high horse, or leave." Billa turned back to face Thorin. "Your choice."

Thorin let himself get lost in the swirl of emotions that resided in the hobbit's crystal blue eyes. Defiance, and no small amount of anger were present, as was a grim seriousness that let him know she had spoken no idle threats. As he let his gaze slip from the rather furious hobbit standing not two feet from him, he glanced around at the members of his company. Most were staring in shock at the hobbit, most likely wondering how she had the audacity to speak to their king as such. Balin was trying –and failing– to hide his smirk with a fist in front of his lips, his gaze filled with amusement, while Dwalin was looking at her with what seemed to be a newfound sense of respect. The three youngest of the company, Ori, Fili and Kili, were just gawping at Miss Baggins in awe, though Ori was a bit more subtle about it. His nephews just seemed amazed that someone had stood up to their uncle, and Thorin couldn't blame them. Hardly anyone had enough of a backbone to do so, but it seemed as if there was much more to this Halfling than he anticipated.

Thorin let out the breath he had been holding and slowly uncurled his fists, looking once more to their host. "You are right," he muttered reluctantly. He could see everyone turn to stare at him in astonishment, but he kept his focus on the hobbit. "I should not have said such things to you. Your hospitality is most welcome, Miss Baggins, I hope you can accept my sincerest of gratitude and apology." Billa stared searchingly at him for a moment and Thorin tensed, waiting for her to kick them out of her home, but she surprised him by nodding in acceptance.

"Thank you, Mister Oakenshield. I accept your apology. You and your kin are welcome for as long as you need." Thorin bowed slightly in thanks, as did the rest of the company. Billa heaved a deep breath and straightened, beckoning towards the door. "You may place your pack and whatever weapons you wish into the closet, there should be enough space for you there. The dining room is through here, so if you will follow me." Thorin offered another nod, quickly storing his pack, cloak and sword into the closet and following her into the dining room, then taking a seat at the head of the table where Billa waved him towards.

As the rest of the Company trickled in behind them, Billa placed the plate she had set aside for Thorin in front of him, along with the tankard of ale. He accepted them with a nod of thanks, (that seems to be his standard use of communication, Billa thought) and began eating. Billa huffed in irritation as her hair fell in front of her eyes again and she groused softly under her breath. When she noticed most everyone staring warily at her, she could feel a slight blush enter her cheeks and she smiled sheepishly.

"I'm going to get something to tie my hair back. Please, feel free to finish off the ale, and I have mead and wine in the pantry if you are still thirsty afterwards. Dwalin," The gruff warrior snapped to attention when she turned to him. "Can I trust you to hold the fort in my stead?" She asked it jokingly, but Dwalin bowed his head as if given a very important task.

"Aye, lass, I'll keep them in line," he promised. Billa smiled brightly at him in thanks, hearing someone choke on a drink but thought nothing of it as she turned away. She stopped suddenly, glancing at the dwarf prince to her right.

"Both," she said. Thorin glanced up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. "You asked if I preferred an axe or sword. I prefer neither, but I can easily use both. I can also use a bow, and a small variety of other weapons." She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but when Thorin's eyes widened in disbelief she grinned cheekily. Just as she had taken a step towards the threshold of the room, she heard Gandalf speak up.

"Billa, my dear, could you hand me-"

"Get it yourself," she snapped, eyeing the wizard coolly. Gandalf looked mildly shocked at her swift change in mood and frustrated beyond belief with her behavior towards him, but she honestly could not care less what he thought of her. "You are a grown man, Gandalf, you are capable of retrieving whatever _desperately_ important item you need at this very second." She raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge, daring him to say something more, but he just huffed and grumbled, standing on his own and moving to the back corner of the room where he had stashed his small parcel and slipping it into his pocket. Billa rolled her eyes at his antics and very nearly stormed from the room, only just reigning in her anger. So, she was still extremely ticked that the wizard had meddled in her peaceful life after a little more than ten years –nearly fifteen, now that Billa really thought about it– of doing Yvanna-knows-what. The man thought himself smarter than everyone else, and his superior attitude had always grated on Billa's nerves, and she remembered he had the same effect on her mother when she was alive.

"Gandalf is a good friend, when it counts," her mother had once told her. "But his kindness always come with a price, and more often than not he will not tell you what the price of it is. He's cunning, that one, so watch yourself around him. He never does anything without a reason, and never agrees to anything if he receives nothing in return, though generally he has the best of intentions. But keep your eyes wide open, Billa, or he'll snatch your nose from under them without you even knowing."

Billa scoffed in contempt, finally reaching her bedroom and sitting at her vanity table. _'I'll have my eyes on him, don't worry mother,'_ she thought, opening her jewelry box in the corner of the table and taking out a clasp and her hair bead. She held the piece of metal in the palm of her hand, smiling as she remembered when Lothran had gifted it to her. It was rather simple, nothing too intricate, simply a large chunk of silver shaped into a rectangular prism, containing runes that signified her a member of the Firebeard Clan –which was his own Clan– and tiny sapphires that matched her eyes. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if she dared. Slowly, a mischievous smirk graced her lips and she decided that yes, she did.

As she wove her hair into a standard braid behind her ear, she thought back to the scene she made in her dining room, before Thorin arrived. She knew that near all of them thought she didn't know what she was saying when she threatened to take their beads, but she did. Billa knew exactly how special a dwarf's hair beads were to them, and what most of them signified. Battles won, marriages, courtships, Clan beads and the like. She didn't go so far as to threaten to take their braids, knowing the uproar that would have caused; besides, their offense wasn't grave enough for her to humiliate them as such. She could tell that Dwalin was a bit suspicious of her knowledge of dwarvish customs, but he hadn't asked her anything yet. _'He will once he sees the bead,'_ she thought, smirking slightly.

Soon, she had finished her braid and her hair now hung over her left shoulder, the hair bead glinting in the candlelight, making Billa smile. She was only slightly worried about their reactions to her adoption, though not worried enough to warrant any drastic measures to be taken. It was all official, Lothran had met with his Clan leader and plead his case, ensuring that both his wife and his niece could be legally acknowledged by the dwarf community as his family, and though it was frowned upon, the Clan leader had accepted. He had offered it to Billa's parents, though they both graciously declined, saying that they both had enough family as it was.

Billa quietly slipped out of her room, wondering just how this was going to go over with the dwarves in her house.

 **~0~**

Thorin didn't know what to think of the hobbit.

One minute, she is practically tearing him apart with her scathing words and harsh tones, and the next she is placing food in front of him, offering drinks to his company and beaming at Dwalin. Thorin had choked on his ale when he saw the faint blush crawl across his friend's face when their host had smiled at him, wondering just how this small woman could have such an effect on his usually unemotional friend, and he could hear Balin's near-silent chuckles next to him. Dwalin had apparently heard as well, if the ferocious glare he sent to his brother was any indication.

Then, just before she left, she informed Thorin that she could not only fight, but fight with a multitude of weapons. Thorin could barely contain his disbelief at the thought of such a delicate looking creature using weaponry of any kind, though the prince remembered the fire that had shined in her deep blue eyes not moments before. She certainly had a fighter's spirit, Thorin had to acknowledge that, but he still didn't fully believe her claim.

And last of all, her frosty reception with the wizard. It was obvious that the hobbit was angry at Gandalf, and the wizard seemed to think it completely unfounded. Though, Thorin could see that he was slightly frazzled by her attitude towards him, as if this entire thing was not going the way he wished it to. Thorin could admit that he was wary of the wizard's intentions towards his quest. Gandalf seemed more than happy to arrange for the entire thing, and when questioned about it, he would lecture and waffle enough that most just sent him away in annoyance. The prince didn't know what Gandalf's endgame was, but at the present, he had done nothing to suggest that he would want anything other than having Thorin reclaim his throne. Thorin still didn't completely trust the wizard, and didn't think he would.

The prince also could see the looks his friends sent Gandalf once Billa had left the room. Dwalin was scowling so fiercely that Thorin thought that it must hurt, while Balin simply gave the wizard his best "You deserved as much," expression; one that, though he was ashamed to admit, he was frequently on the receiving end of.

Thorin didn't have any time to ponder his current predicament any further, because their host had re-entered the dining room. He noticed that her hair was pulled into a tight braid over her shoulder, a few curls escaping to frame her face. She hadn't bothered to change out of her dressing gown, and the maroon only highlighted the golden color of her hair. She smiled at them all in greeting, receiving a few tentative nods in return and sat in the empty chair on Thorin's right. The dwarf prince wondered momentarily if she had designated that spot for herself, but upon seeing Gandalf's approving look disregarded the idea. The hobbit sat stiffly in her seat, throwing the wizard behind her scowls when he attempted to catch her eye, and Thorin found himself attempting to hold his amusement at bay. Soon enough, though, Balin brought them to business.

"What news from the meeting at Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Thorin nodded slowly.

"Aye," he said. "Envoys from all seven kingdoms." Thorin felt his spirits fall slightly when his company murmured their excitement.

"And what do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say," Dwalin asked, leaning forward. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorin sighed softly and shook his head. "They will not come. They say this quest is ours and ours alone." While his kin looked disappointed, Miss Baggins simply looked intrigued.

"And what exactly is this quest of yours," she asked, glancing between himself, Balin and Dwalin. Gandalf moved his chair towards Thorin a bit and he could see Miss Baggins stiffen slightly.

"Billa, my dear, let us have a little more light," he spoke in the way a grandfather would to a child, as if saying it in any other tone would incite her ire. Thorin could see that the somewhat patronizing lilt in his voice made the hobbit's hackles rise, but she still stood and grabbed another candle, muttering about "useless wizards that can't make their own light." Once more, the prince found himself stifling amusement, though he covered it well.

As Gandalf unfolded the map he pulled from his robes, he addressed everyone in the room. "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak." The hobbit froze at his words and spun quickly to face them, the candle in her hands nearly sputtering out.

"The Lonely Mountain," she said, quickly focusing on Thorin and trapping him in her wide eyed stare. "You're going to take back Erebor." Before Thorin could even begin to question her as to how she knew about Erebor, Gloin cut in.

"Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it's time!" Many rolled their eyes at the statement, for they had all heard first hand some of the "portents" Oin had read, though the healer seemed not see them.

"Ravens have been flying back to the mountain as it has been foretold," the elderly healer added. "When the birds of old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."

And here, the hobbit interrupted. "The beast?"

"Oh that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age," Bofur said, eyes sparkling with mischief when Miss Baggins turned to him. "Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals-"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is, thank you," she said stiffly. Bofur was about to add something more when Ori suddenly shot to his feet.

"I'm not afraid," he declared. "I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksy!" While many applauded Ori for his bravery, Dori grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat with a vicious "Sit down!" Thorin felt the hobbit lean closer to him, presumably trying to get a closer look at the map, and shifted slightly to accommodate her, seeing as how he was the guest in her home. He glanced at her in time to see the small smile of thanks, to which he returned with a nod. If he had been paying attention to his surroundings, he would have seen his nephews nudging each other and grinning impishly, but alas, he did not.

Balin sighed, glancing at everyone gathered around the table. "The task will be difficult enough even with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen. Not thirteen the best, nor the brightest." His words were met with many an indignant response, and Thorin could hear the hobbit next to him snickering slightly.

Fili was able to quiet them down. "We may be few in number, but we are fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!"

"And you forget," Kili added, leaning forward excitedly. "We have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!"

The wizard in question coughed suddenly, looking around uncomfortably. At the same time, Thorin heard Miss Baggins let out a bark of laughter and turned questioning eyes on her, but she was focused on the floundering wizard. "Oh, well now," Gandalf spoke haltingly. "I wouldn't say-"

"How many, then?" Gandalf turned to meet Dori's expectant expression.

"I, uh, what?"

"How many dragons have you killed?" Dori waved his hand in a "go on" motion. "Come on, give us a number!"

Miss Baggins straightened and grinned at Gandalf. Thorin had a sneaking suspicion that she was enjoying the wizards discomfort far too much. "Yes, Gandalf," she goaded. "Exactly _how many_ dragons have you killed?" She simply raised an eyebrow at his glare, too amused to be intimidated by him. Soon however, most everyone started arguing over just how many dragons the wizard had slayed, though it was rather obvious he had not been anywhere near a dragon, much less killed one. The noise was steadily rising, with everyone trying to shout over each other to be heard, and Thorin finally had enough.

"Atkat!" he roared, standing so quickly that his chair nearly toppled over. Out of the corner of his eye Thorin could see Miss Baggins startle away and felt a momentary apology on his tongue, but it was soon dispelled as he focused on the matter at hand and settled a glare on his company. "If we have read these signs, do you not think that others will have read them to?" he demanded. "Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" As the dwarves around him shouted their agreements, Thorin felt pride for these men flow in his veins. "Du Bekar! Du Bekar!"

The cheers grew louder than ever, every dwarf practically roaring their own calls to arms. The energy in the room was palpable, practically vibrating with life and determination, and everyone felt it. It quickly dissipated, however, with Balin's words.

"You forget: the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." There was silence, and everyone slowly sat once more, feeling the original fire drain away from the group gathered. Gandalf took that time to make himself known once more.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." The wizard then pulled a large metal key from his pocket and held it up for everyone to see. Thorin felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the very familiar ornate iron-wrought key and he stared in astonishment at Gandalf.

"How came you by this?" he asked in a hushed voice, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing was really there. Gandalf simply extended his hand towards him with a small smile.

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safe keeping." He dropped the key in Thorin's hand. "It is yours now."

 **~0~**

 **Ta Da! Hope y'all enjoyed!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello all! I know. You all probably hate me. And damn well you should. I'm so sorry I haven't posted in a while, but three AP classes, a house being built and parents getting divorced can distract you a bit. So can two gun threats to the school in the course of two months. Plus, midterms were this past week and I'm going bald with all the stress. I hope y'all can forgive me and enjoy this chapter!**

 **Also, just for future reference: this story will not be abandoned. I repeat, THIS STORRY SHAN'T BE ABANDONED. While I may be away, dear readers, I am never gone, and I will always return to you all.**

 **I do not own the Hobbit or any of its characters.**

 **~0~**

Billa watched as Thorin slowly reached toward the large key in Gandalf's hand and wrapped his calloused fingers around the metal. A reverent silence had befallen the dwarves as they stared with renewed hope at their prince. Billa herself could feel the distant thrum of anticipation in her veins, as if she too were a part of this quest. She let her eyes rake over Thorin's face and saw the emotion behind his eyes; the pain, the longing, and the nearly blinding _hope_ that shone through his usually guarded eyes. It was startling, to say the least, and Billa found her breath caught in her throat because, _'Sweet Eru, this dwarf is gorgeous.'_

Fili was the first to break the silence. "If there is a key," he said excitedly, "then there must be a door."

Gandalf took his pipe and gestured towards the map. "There are runes that speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

Kili leaned forward, a huge grin lighting up his face. "There's another way in!"

Gandalf nodded once more. "If we can find it. Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere on this map and I do not have the skill to find it." Billa was somewhat surprised that the wizard actually admitted to not being able to do something, but she shook the thought off in order to pay more attention to what he was saying. "But there are others in Middle-Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."

Ori glanced at Gandalf fleetingly. "That's why we need a burglar," he stated, getting a nod of agreement from the wizard. Billa nodded as well, once more looking down at the map in front of her.

"And a good one too," she said mostly to herself. "An expert, I'd imagine." After a moment of silence she began to feel the weight of multiple stares on her person and she looked up to meet all of their gazes.

"And are you?"

Billa looked to Gloin in confusion. "Am I what?" A sudden cackle from Oin made her startle.

"She says she's an expert! Hey hey!" Oin was looking around proudly and Billa finally realized what they were all insinuating.

"Oh, oh no, I'm not-" Billa stopped short of her sputtering and looked to Thorin, whom was still sitting on her left. "Who told you I was a burglar?" The prince didn't respond, save for the arch of a single eyebrow, and Billa felt rage once more flood her system. Slowly, she felt her spine straighten as she stood to her full height and she turned to face Gandalf fully. Her left hand stayed on the table while her right clenched at her side, and Billa felt her eyes narrow into slits. She didn't speak, and Gandalf began to fidget. As the silence stretched on, Billa could practically taste the tension in the room rise. The dwarves soon began whispering to themselves, their speech muffled by the beards they sported. The wizard, however, opted for speechlessness. _'Coward.'_ Although, she had to admit, Billa found immense pleasure from being the cause of his nervousness. It was rather empowering, and before she could stop it, a smirk curled her lips upward and she huffed out a breath. Many dwarves jumped, but Billa ignored them.

"You and I have much to discuss, wizard," she hissed. "However, it is a conversation between you and I alone, so I will resist the urge to tear you a new one just yet." With one more glare, Billa turned around to face the rest of the company. Most seemed to be holding in snickers (Bofur, Bifur, and Balin to name but a few), and Billa felt her cheeks heat slightly. But before she could apologize to her guests once more, she heard Gloin speak.

"The lass hardly looks burglar material," he said. Billa immediately set her eyes on the red-haired dwarf, only to have it jump to Dori as he nodded in agreement.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk, and especially not for a woman. Her place is at her home, where she should stay."

Billa did not blink, and stared unflinchingly at the eldest of the Ri brothers. Distantly she heard at least two dwarves groan in exasperation, what sounded suspiciously like growls on her left, and voices swiftly coming to her defense, but she did not join in. She simply stood by Thorin's side, attempting to glare a hole into Dori's forehead as he met her eyes. She could feel her lips twitch into the beginnings of a snarl. _'And just who in the name of Yvanna does this dwarf think he is?'_ The thought of someone making decisions for her –and for nothing other than her gender– made her fists clench at her sides.

Just before she could begin to formulate a proper defense for herself, the room suddenly darkened considerably as Gandalf stood from his seat. "Enough!" he shouted, causing the dwarves to fall silent. Even Billa jumped slightly, knowing that despite her teasing, Gandalf was indeed fairly powerful. "If I say Billa Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is!" Slowly, the shadows that seemed to come from the wizard himself retreated, and Gandalf looked around at the wide eyes that met him.

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass my most unseen if they so please. And while a dragon is accustomed to the scent of dwarf, the smell of Hobbit will be unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." The wizard now turned to look directly at Thorin, who, Billa was surprised to notice, had been silent throughout the entire ordeal. "You asked me to find a fourteenth member of the company, and I have chosen Miss Baggins. There is more to her than appearances suggest, as you may have already guessed," Billa snorted in response. "And she's got a great deal to offer on this quest. You must trust me on this," he implored, not breaking eye contact with the prince.

Billa found herself holding her breath and she too let her eyes fall on the prince. He had already been appraising her, it seemed, for she met his eyes immediately. He looked at her, then glanced towards Balin and Dwalin, who both nodded their consent. Thorin's sigh was nearly inaudible, and he looked once more to Gandalf.

"Fine," he grumbled, looking faintly displeased. "We'll do it your way." He nodded to Balin. "Give her a contract."

Balin nodded as well and pulled out a long piece of parchment from his inner pocket of his coat, then handed it to Billa. The hobbit felt the momentary need to point out to everyone there that she had not even agreed to be part of their quest, but instead she just sighed. She unfolded the rather long contract and glanced over it briefly as Balin began to speak to her. "It's just the usual summary of out of pocket expenses, time required, enumeration, funeral arrangements-" Billa let her eyes leave the page and to stare at the old dwarf.

"Funeral arrangements," she said dryly.

Balin nodded and smiled at her. "Aye, and any other details you should need."

Billa snorted softly, appreciating his honesty. A clearing of a throat next to her made her meet the leader of the company's own eyes questioningly. "I cannot guarantee your safety, nor will I be held responsible for your fate, Miss Baggins." His ice blue eyes were hard as he spoke to her. "Regardless of your gender, you will be treated as any other member of this company, and you will be expected to pull your own weight amongst us. You will receive no special treatment. And you will be expected to be able to defend yourself should anything happen. We cannot afford to be distracted from battle trying to protect you, do I make myself clear?"

Billa held his gaze and nodded in affirmation. "I understand your terms, Mister Oakenshield, and I should expect nothing less. And I can assure you, I can defend myself perfectly fine should the need arise, so you do not have to worry about saving me." He raised a skeptical brow at that, but did not respond other than to turn away and finish the meal before him. Feeling slightly miffed at his rather abrupt dismissal of her, she turned back to the contract and began reading aloud to herself.

"'Cash on delivery, up to and not exceeding one fourteenth of the total profit, if any.' Seems fair enough I reckon. 'The present company shall not be held liable for injuries inflicted or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations, evisceration-" Billa stopped and stared at the small, neatly written word staring at her from the page. She suddenly had the absurd urge to laugh, but she quelled the urge and continued. "Incineration."

Bofur, more than likely thinking her pause to be one of fright, decided that now was the time to intervene once more. "Think a furnace with wings," he said, taking out his pipe from a pocket in his jacket. "Flash of light, searing pain, then POOF! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

Gandalf huffed from his seat in the corner. "You're very helpful Bofur." Bofur must not have picked up on the sarcasm in the wizard's statement –or perhaps he did and was just choosing instead to ignore it– for the dwarf simply smiled in agreement. Billa chuckled softly under her breath, but it quickly faded as she realized everyone's eyes were on her. She took a look at the contract in her hand, then looked around at the dwarves seated at the table. Many of them nodded encouragingly when her eyes landed on them –the most enthusiastic being from Fili, Kili and Bofur– and she couldn't help but feel drawn to them. To this quest.

Billa had heard stories of Erebor from her uncle Lothran. He used to be a guard in the Iron Hills, and was often sent to the great kingdom with other dignitaries. He would spin tales of a mountain large enough to fit the entire kingdom, with halls of glistening jewels and great stone statues of the kings of old. He also told her stories of its fall, and the battles that followed –battles that he was a part of. The reverence in his voice of the once glorious kingdom, the grief of losing one's home, and the bittersweet remembrance of it all was enough to make Billa dream of the mountains long after her family departed.

Gandalf was right –oh how _loathe_ she was to admit. But it was true, what he said. She could help them. She could help these lost souls find their place once more. That thought alone was what truly struck her, and she found herself opening her mouth to agree to it all, when someone spoke before her.

"What is that?" Billa turned to her left to see Thorin staring at her hair –or, more specifically, the Firebeard Clan bead that shone in the candlelight. Billa glanced down at it as well before meeting the prince's eyes. Where his eyes before had been guarded but not unkind, now they looked hard as the stone from which he came. He was glaring at her harshly, suspicion bright in his gaze. A lesser man would have been intimidated by his icy stare.

And yet all Billa could think was, _'These dwarves must be terribly unobservant, if he is just now noticing this.'_

"It is a hair bead, Mister Oakenshield," she said simply.

If it was possible, Thorin's glare intensified. "I can see that," he grumbled. "What I want to know is why a hobbit such as yourself has a dwarven Clan bead woven into your braid."

Once more the party fell silent. Billa sighed internally at the dwarves' dramatics, though she couldn't really fault them. Dwarves were a very private race, so this must have aroused some suspicion amongst them.

"I have a clan bead," Billa said, "Because I am part of the Firebeard Clan." Hearing a choking sound behind her, Billa turned to see Bombur, Bofur and Bifur all staring at her in shock. Before she could question them, however, Thorin spoke.

"I find it hard to believe that the Firebeard's allowed an outsider amongst their ranks." The way he spoke to her, with such derision and slight disgust, made Billa's hackles rise.

"My uncle Lothran himself had me sanctioned, along with his wife. He was a guardsman in the Iron Hills, under the employment of your cousin Dain." At the mention of his cousin, Thorin's brows lifted significantly. It seemed he still did not believe her, however, if his still steady glare was anything to go by. Billa huffed and folded her arms across her chest. "I have the papers if you wish to see for yourself."

Balin nodded to her. "If you wouldn't mind dearie," he said with a thin smile. Billa turned to the old dwarf and smiled wanly. She rose once more, and was halted by Gandalf's voice.

"Now, Thorin, what Billa says here is true. I have met her uncle and-"

"It's alright Gandalf," Billa interrupted softly, catching the wizard's gaze. "If they want the proof, then I shall show it to them. If you will excuse me." Without waiting for a response, Billa turned and headed straight for her room where her sanctification papers were.

 **~0~**

Immediately following the hobbit's retreat, chatter broke out amongst the dwarves at her table, mainly from the company's own Firebeards.

"Do you think she's telling the truth?" Bombur asked, looking at his brother and cousin with wide eyes. Bofur stared at the archway that their host disappeared through and slowly shook his head.

"I don't see a reason for her to lie about something like this. And if she is," he added, finally tearing his eyes away from the wood and towards his family. "Then it would explain how she knew so much about beads and greetings and such." He glanced at his cousin, who was chewing thoughtfully on a flower stem. "What do you think, Bifur?"

Bifur thought for a moment. Bofur and Bombur watched their cousin with rapt attention, waiting for his own input. Their cousin had always been immensely intuitive, and after said intuition had saved both of their lives multiple times, they would first get Bifur's opinion on whatever the matter at hand was that they discussed.

The dwarf in mention shook his head slowly. "There is something…different about her," he grunted in Khuzdul. Bofur scoffed.

"You mean besides the fact that she's a _Hobbit_ that's been adopted into a _Dwarven_ clan?"

Bifur turned a scowl onto his cousin. "Yes, you smarmy git, besides that." Bombur raised his eyebrows in question, imploring Bifur to continue. "She's hiding something. I do not believe it is anything that would endanger us, but the Hobbit definitely has some secrets."

"But can we trust her?" Bofur asked insistently. Bifur sighed softly and nodded.

"Aye, I believe we can." Just as the words left his mouth, and ear shattering squawk rang through the Hobbit hole.

"What in the name of Mahal?" The dwarves stopped and reached for their weapons, eyeing the doorway warily. Balin, meanwhile, glanced at his brother.

"Do you think the 'winged demons' have struck again?" he asked, and Dwalin just snorted, but didn't release the hold he had on his steak knife, just in case.

Thorin gave both dwarves a strange look. "'Winged Demons'?" he asked. Before either could answer, Gandalf started chuckling, bringing everyone's attention to himself.

"Oh, our dear host will not be pleased," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

" _DAMN IT ALL. EL! GET BACK HERE YOU BLOODY DEMON!"_

Everyone winced at the shouts that filled the house, then stared wide eyed at each other. Fili whistled lowly while Kili nodded in agreement.

"The Hobbit's got a set of pipes on her, I'll give her that," the youngest prince said in reverence. A glare from their uncle shut him up, but not before Fili's snickers reached everyone's ears.

"Who is she talking to?" Ori asked his brothers who only shrugged in response. There was another crash, a loud squawk, then the sound of feet stomping on wooden floors.

"El! I will turn you into a down pillow if you don't come back here this instant!" Billa's shout sounded closer than before, and everyone hastily sat as they realized that she was making her way towards them.

Suddenly, a large brown blur flew over their heads. Nori shouted in surprise when the creature flew straight into his towering hair, nearly destroying it in the process, before it managed to flutter its way onto the table. Bofur leaned closer to the table, and noticed the spots adorning the dark brown feathers of the creature's chest and the scrolls clutched in its talons.

"It's a falcon," he murmured. The bird's head suddenly snapped in his direction, focusing non blinking amber eyes onto his own dark brown. As they engaged in their silent stare down, Billa finally reentered the room.

"She prefers to be referred to as a merlin, and her name is El." The merlin's head quickly spun around to face their host, and they all noticed the frosty smile the Hobbit directed at the large bird. "Though I refer to her as either 'The Winged Demon' or 'Bane of my Existence'." El huffed rather dramatically for a bird, as if she understood what Billa had just said. The hobbit simply rolled her eyes and slowly lifted her hand, leaving her open palm up. "Hand them over."

The merlin squawked softly, shifting ever so slightly closer to the irritated Hobbit. She simply narrowed her eyes and thrust her hand in the bird's face. "Now, El!" With an actual, honest to Eru squeak, El hopped towards her and released the papers clutched in her foot. Billa huffed and shooed the merlin away with her reclaimed papers. "Get off my table you beast. I don't have any more food so you'll just have to starve for the night." The hobbit said this all very nonchalantly, as if starving a bird was a normal, everyday occurrence in her house. Which, Bofur thought, he couldn't exactly judge, seeing as how he didn't _know_ what the lass's everyday activities consisted of.

He watched as their host calmly ignored the shifty bird on its perch above the fireplace and unrolled the parchments in hand, walking around to Balin. "Here you are," she announced. "These are the papers Lothran gave me just after the ceremony. I wasn't there for it, but they celebrated nonetheless." The hobbit gave the old dwarf a smirk. "I was assured that it was a wonderfully drunken party." Balin chuckled at her statement and began to scour the pieces of parchment in front of him intently. Thorin was still glaring murderously at her, but she gave no indication that she even noticed.

Bofur found himself grinning as he took in the creature before him. She was small, that much was obvious, but she was fiery. There was absolutely no hesitation in her gaze or tone in what the dwarf was silently dubbing "The Great Dressing Down of Thorin Oakenshield" in the hallway that suggested she would give him any special treatment simply because of who he was. She was also compassionate, however, if the agreement to even let complete and utter strangers, and _dwarves_ at that into her own home, but she wasn't pitying. And that, Bofur decided, was what he really liked. Ever since the fall of Erebor, he and his family had either been looked down on –most of the time quite literally, damn their short stature– with either pity or disgust. The fact that neither had shown in this hobbit's eyes had earned her a place in his good books.

Not only that, but the no-nonsense attitude she had with the wizard amused him to no end. Obviously there was history between the two, and not all of it was good. Bofur decided then and there that he would get the details out of her, but for now he just sat back and waited for her fate to be decided.

Balin, meanwhile, was reviewing the documents in his hand with the greatest of scrutiny. While it wasn't unheard of for a person of another race to be adopted into a dwarven clan, it was extremely rare, as dwarves tended to have trust issues when it came to other races. Balin looked over each paper twice, making sure he did not find any mistakes or signs of forgery, but his eyes found none. He glanced up at his king, shaking his head once, before breaking out into a smile and turning to his companions.

"Bifur, Bombur, Bofur, I do believe you've found yourselves a Clan Member," he said brightly. The elderly dwarf chuckled as his hostess was almost immediately tackled in a bear hug from Bofur, and while the action got a few scowls from the dwarves around him (including his brother – Balin would need to speak to his brother about the meaning of the word "subtlety"), Miss Baggins did not seem to mind one bit. She simply laughed heartily and wiggled her arms around his torso to return the hug.

Bofur pulled away and smiled down at her. "Welcome to the family, Miss Baggins," he said cheekily, causing Billa to roll her eyes good-naturedly.

"Honestly, Mister Bofur," she said, "if we are to be family, then I insist you call me Billa. None of that 'Miss Baggins' nonsense." Bofur's smile stretched into a grin as he nodded his acceptance.

"Aye, lass, but only if you drop the 'Mister'." Billa giggled again and nodded in agreement, and the two finally separated, Bofur returning to his seat and Billa taking the papers back from Balin. The Hobbit nodded before taking her seat once more and reading the rest of the contract in front of her. She heard the fluttering of wings near her, and suddenly she was looking down into the dark brown feathers of El's head. Billa glared at the merlin and flicked her gently in the side.

"Do you mind?" she asked, gesturing for the bird to scoot to the side.

El glanced up, then moved slowly away from the contract. _"But I want to see what it says!"_ she exclaimed, squawking in protest when Billa shoved her closer to Thorin.

"Yvanna, El, will you please just let me finish this? I'll find some extra meat for you." Billa watched as the merlin thought about her offer, before accepting the bribe and turning to lock eyes with the prince behind her. Billa chuckled as the two had a silent staring contest, and finally reaching the end of the parchment, signed her name and handed the contract back to Balin.

"Welcome, Miss Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield." Billa smiled at the elderly dwarf and fleetingly met the disapproving gaze of their leader. He had finally broken his gaze with the merlin (who looked far too pleased with herself at having bested the dwarf) and let his eyes tell her exactly how much he did _not_ want her joining them. Billa in kind met the stare with her own unimpressed one, raising an eyebrow in challenge. The prince simply huffed and looked once more to the bird in front of him, so he missed the Hobbit rolling her eyes next to him.

 _"I definitely have my work cut out for me,"_ she thought, sighing internally. _"It's going to be a long journey, Billa."_


End file.
